


Journey

by holo_pom



Series: Endings [1]
Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Action/Adventure, Bisexual Character, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Friendship, Gay Character, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Injury, LGBT Cats (Warriors), LGBTQ Character, Minor Character Death, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Original Clans (Warriors), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pansexual Character, Romance, StarClan (Warriors), Trans Character, Violence, theres no explicitly graphic descriptions but there is fighting and death and the like
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-06-28 16:24:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19816036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holo_pom/pseuds/holo_pom
Summary: Prophecies, portends, predictions of the future.Clans have often been formed this way, with a message from StarClan predicting the beginning of their times. It has almost always been so.This is the exception.A cat with a connection to the strings of fate approaches the Clans, with declarations of the end. Tensions rise, trust is tested, bonds are broken, and cats band together to undergo the most harrowing journey of their lives, to keep the code—and themselves—from being completely and utterly destroyed.-Or, what if cats found ways to escape and survive the war that accompanied the end of the human race.





	1. Prologue

What happened? He had no idea.

"Who is that!?" "...he's vaguely familiar, but I'm not sure." "Well, I hope he's not important, because I'm about to make him take up permanent residence in—" "Wait...no, I recognize him. That's Spiderpelt, of HollowClan."

He had been running...

"Are we going to ask him what he's doing here, or are we just going to sit and stare?" "He doesn't look to be paying attention right now." " _I'll_ get his attention, then. He would know better than to ignore me."

He had fallen, fallen into the pool...fallen into Starfall. And now he was in StarClan.

"Spiderpelt?"

He was in StarClan. Oh, no, he was in _StarClan_.

"Spiderpelt."

How did he get here? He didn't remember. All he was doing was following orders. If anything, it was Lionstar that should have gone to StarClan, not him. He was just following orders, it wasn't _fair_ that he had to die for another's mistakes!

"Spiderpelt..."

He could see the stars all around him. If he looked down, would he see his own pelt covered in stars? Would his paws be faded into the grass? If he looked around, would he see his ancestors gathered to greet him, and grant him safe passage into the annals of history?

" _Spiderpelt._ "

Oh, he could hear them now. They were calling his name, waiting for him. Maybe he'd finally see his long lost ancestor Blackblaze, one of the fiercest, most powerful, most courageous, most dedicated warrior to ever walk among the clans. But no, he didn't want to go, yet! He needed to prove himself to the countless residents of StarClan that were waiting for him, and show them that he wasn't a coward! He needed to—

" _Spiderpelt, stop cowering, get up, and come over here, before I drag you across myself!_ "

The roar startled the dark tom, and he jumped to his feet, green eyes showing more than a touch of fear. He peered around frantically, and his gaze finally settled on his summoner. Well, _summoners_ , though he'd only heard one voice. He assumed the one calling him over was the she-cat with the stars in her pelt, who was glaring at him through narrowed eyes. "Get over here," she hissed, "Now, Spiderpelt, or I'll have words for you when you do enter StarClan."

The statement, laced with venom as they were, nevertheless sparked hope in the skittish tom. "Wait...I'm not actually—" The starry cat hissed loudly before he could complete the thought, and he found in himself the sense to hurry to her general vicinity.

When Spiderpelt drew closer, his eyes darted and lingered to the more ordinary looking cats, watching him with surprised—and slightly suspicious—gazes. He stared at them with equal surprise. "...Graythroat? Owlpaw? What are you doing here? Are you...dead? Am _I_ dead?" "Nobody's dead here except for me," the starry cat growled irritably. He turned his attention to the cat. The awkward silence stretched, and the cat's tail flipped, annoyed. "Well? Aren't you going to say something?"

Spiderpelt just looked at her uncomprehendingly, and she sighed. "All of HollowClan. Idiots. You don't know who I am?" He shook his head mutely; he was never all that good with remembering historical figures, aside from his own illustrious predecessor. A low growl rumbled in the she-cat's chest, but her fur stayed flat, and she continued. "I am Nightstar of GladeClan," she announced, and Spiderpelt's eyes widened in understanding. " _The_ Nightstar? The Nightstar that united the clans, and led the campaign against the pack that tried to take a piece of clan territory?"

Her eyes glowed with pride, and she became noticeably less irritated than before. "Yes, that's me." Spiderpelt's eyes grew so wide they almost popped out of his head. Graythroat let out a quiet chuckle at his expression, and the noise drew Nightstar's attention back to the present. "What are you doing here?" she demanded, reverting back to borderline hostility. "This isn't your dream. How in StarClan did you make it here? Tell us everything."

Spiderpelt crouched down, trying to be as unthreatening as possible. "I...I was..." "Spit it out already," Owlpaw, who had stayed silent until that moment, growled out. The brown tom stared at him as intensely as Nightstar; he had not inherited the kindness his mentor was known for. Briefly Spiderpelt wondered at the wisdom of telling cats from a rival clan his leader's orders—even if one of them was a StarClan cat—but Nightstar's bright fangs and unsheathed claws made the decision for him. "R-right," he stammered, looking at the ground, then at the gathered cats. With an effort, he flattened his fur, which had begun to bristle.

"I was...on a mission for Runningstar." The three others' gazes sharpened with interest. "It was supposed to be a solo mission; I was chosen because I was fast, and my pelt would help me sneak around...and I'm a good tracker." Owlpaw leaned forward, entirely too interested. "There are rumors of...rogues and kittypets, banding together in the twolegplace." Graythroat nodded. "Yes...we've heard about that," she meowed thoughtfully. "Our leader's on edge about it..."

Spiderpelt sat up slowly, getting more comfortable now that Nightstar's claws were sheathed again. He licked his chest self consciously. "They're true." He ignored their gasps and growls as he forged ahead. "They claim to have a prophetic cat. A prophetic cat that's telling them that it's not safe to live in the Twolegplace—" Nightstar snorted at what she thought was an obvious fact; of course the Twolegplace wasn't safe for a self respecting cat. "—and that...that they need to come here. To our territory, and create another clan."

Owlpaw was up on his paws the moment Spiderpelt finished, fur fluffed up and eyes blazing. "No!" the medicine cat apprentice spat with pure, undisguised venom. "No. No, no, no, no! Those filthy piles of fox-dung have no _right_ to even be thinking about us!" Graythroat looked troubled, and her tail twitched, but she stayed silent. Nightstar was just as furious as Owlpaw. "Not possible. Not happening." The words were as cold as ice. "There's no way they're coming in; StarClan hasn't sanctioned it, nor have we had any contact with such a cat." "That's the thing, Nightstar." He looked her dead on. "They know. And they're doing it anyway."

Both medicine cats flinched, and Nightstar stared in overwhelming surprise. There was silence in StarClan. Then, Nightstar simply meowed, "Explain."

Spiderpelt nodded. "There are cats...that know of StarClan...in the Twolegplace. Exiles from our generation, and...descendants of clan cats that left. They know you. They _know_ , and yet..." He lowered his gaze to the ground as he recalled the utter certainty in those cats' eyes, the conviction that they were following the true path of fate. "They're going to do it anyway."

More silence met his words. Then, an angry exclamation from Nightstar. "We need to stop this. This is utterly ridiculous. Those fools..." She was pacing back and forth, her ears flat and her eyes fire. "I will notify all of StarClan. We'll tell MistClan, get everyone mobilized for war—"

"You won't stop them."

The illustrious leader's head whipped around, pinning the tom to the ground with fierce green eyes. Owlpaw let out a snarl, and before Nightstar could speak, asked in anger, "What do you mean, _won't_?" Graythroat laid a restraining tail across her apprentice's shoulders. "Spiderpelt, it's these rogues against the longest lived clans in this part of the wild," she pointed out gently, though her blue eyes were even more troubled than before.

He was shaking his head even before she finished. "They're still going to do it. They're convinced, and they won't back down. It'll be a bloodbath—" "For them," Owlpaw growled, unsheathing his claws and sinking them into the ground. Spiderpelt looked at the violent medicine cat for a moment, before looking at his mentor with an odd light in his eyes.

"I saw her," he mewed quietly, his voice far away. "I touched noses with her. I'm not any medicine cat...I don't have any connections with anything...I'm just a HollowClan scout. But when I met her...I knew why each rogue she had met would believe her totally." Spiderpelt's expression was resigned. "I only felt it once, when I first met her, but she's the real thing. And if that cat says something will happen, it will."

The third pause of the dream stretched out, the longest yet. Nightstar broke it. "I'm assuming that's how you got into this dream." Her voice was oddly hushed. "Residue of her power." Spiderpelt looked at his paws. "I...I think so."

Owlpaw was still unconvinced. "GladeClan...no, _StarClan_ is stronger than anything this rogue can muster. They'll be hard pressed to try and steal a piece of clan territory."

Spiderpelt stayed silent. Nightstar shook out her starry pelt, fur still bristling slightly. "Go home, Spiderpelt. Go, and tell Runningstar what you found. I'll make sure the news gets to MistClan too." Her gaze was hard. "The clans will prepare for war."

* * *

Oilspill poked her head around the corner of the dumpster, whiskers twitching with worry. "Kettle?" she called again. "Kettle, where are ya?" There was silence for a quick moment, before someone responded. "Comin', ma!" From atop the dumpster, a small, dusty brown molly appeared in view. She scrambled down the sloped surface of her perch, and jumped off. Oilspill's heart leaped into her throat as she saw what could possibly be a fatal landing, but it miraculously was only clumsy. The black cat let out a sigh as she approached her daughter, giving her a quick grooming before she pulled back. "Come on," she mewed. "I got some food over by our place. Your favorite." "Aw, did ya really?" Kettle asked, eyes sparkling with the innocence of a kit. Oilspill flicked a soft tail across her side. "Yeah. Fresh mouse." Her daughter hopped to her paws, and the two of them set off.

The black cat observed her kit with a hooded yellow gaze, trying to think of how to approach this. "Kettle..." she began hesitantly. "What were ya doin' over by the dumps? Ya know we have a place...that's safer, 'n' less smelly." Oftentimes, mean and vicious cats lingered by the dumpster, since it was a source of easy food to scavenge from. She had no idea why such a tiny cat would want to be there, though she honestly had no control over her daughter's actions...or insight to her mind.

Kettle lifted her muzzle in thought before replying. "I hadta be there," she meowed. "I needed t' meet the clan cat. He was important." Oilspill bristled at the mere mention of clan. Every rogue knew of them...and their hatred towards cats in the city. "Did he hurt ya? Are ya okay? No wounds, no nothin'?" Kettle shook her head. "Nah. He wouldn't hurt me. His code 'r whatever's too rigid for that. Besides," she added, her eyes bright with mischief, "no other cat woulda let him try anythin'."

Oilspill was forced to admit the truth of that. No cat of any stripe would— _could_ —lay a claw on her daughter.

They stuck to the well worn path. They both knew it by heart, so it was an easy trip. They passed a few cats every so often, and they gave them glances of recognition and nods of respect. It made Oilspill's pelt prickle; she still wasn't used to the reverence with which other cats treated her daughter, and by extension, her.

"Kettle. Why'd ya need t' meet that cat?" A simple question, with a strange answer. "Hm...well, it was good it happened. Was waitin' for that leader cat t' send him along...if he didn't come, then there woulda been an ambush, 'n' the clan woulda died, 'n' then less cats woulda been saved. Better for there t' be a fight now, instead o' later." Oilspill stared at her daughter, who turned her own yellow eyes to meet hers with a bland expression. "You're still going on about that clan thing? I thought..." "Course! It's happenin' now, ain't it?" "Is it?"

They were close to their destination, now. They just needed to wait for the cars to slow down along this road. Kettle watched the light as she formulated a response. "It's for the next cats. Clan's gotta be there...convince more cats t' go." "Go...where?" Oilspill asked, concerned. "It ain't happenin' in our lifetimes, that's for sure. But soon, all these upwalkers...they're gonna make a mistake. They're gonna start fightin', destroyin' the land...'n' there'll be none left. We gotta move these cats, before that happens, else they'll be destroyed too." The light changed, the cars slowed, and Kettle leaped up and started across as if she hadn't just given a vision of death and destruction on the side of the road.

Oilspill kept up with her young daughter easily, keeping an eye on their surroundings. "You're absolutely sure that this'll work out? What if...the future clan you're talkin' about, what if they ignore...?" Kettle looked at her mother with calm assurance. "Nah. That doesn't happen." Oilspill closed her mouth.

They were on the final stretch, and after a moment, she asked her one last question. "Um...what do ya see happenin'?" "..." Kettle absorbed this. "I see a bit," she meowed thoughtfully. "I see 'em succeeding t' convince more cats t' go, 'n' some of their StarClan comes around t' it too...though I don't see much past that. I hope they make it, ya know."

Oilspill and Kettle made it to their little corner of the city. Another cat, an admirer of Kettle's that Oilspill had already begun to see as a son—and at both of their insistence, let him stay—poked his head out of a box, delighted to see them. As her daughter padded away, touching noses with him, Oilspill made one last murmur.

"Me, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't plan to actually speak in these notes often, but just a thing: I do not plan to add allegiances since I do not want to type all that up again (no, I cannot copy paste it because I'm a fool who didn't write it out first press f), and they become irrelevant, anyway. You'll see.
> 
> For now, these notes will consist of one cat descriptions; I'll give each cat that shows up for the first time a traditional Warriors description. Please bear with me here.  
> This chapter doesn't get any descriptions, because it's a prologue. It's fine.


	2. I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cat descriptions are at the end. Man, I really wish I was smart and made a...list. Instead of using Novelist's item function. Bear with me, please.

Palepaw's attention was completely focused on the herbs arranged in front of him.

Blackberry's gaze was stern and expectant. "You have decided that your life's vocation is being a medicine cat. This is not an easy task, and there are several things you must learn before you earn your full name. One of these is to memorize each and every herb known to the clans." Her tail came to curl around her paws, and she nodded at the various leaves and flowers in between them. "You know that these are some of the most well known, and I have shown you them before. List them."

Her tone brooked no argument. Palepaw felt a little nervous as he decided where to start. He hesitated, and then chose to start from his left. "Catmint," he ventured. "It's used to help treat...greencough, and whitecough." Blackberry nodded in approval, but otherwise stayed silent. He moved on. "...poppy seeds. They help ease pain, and help gets cats to sleep. Too many can kill." "Good," was Blackberry's response, voice warm. Palepaw breathed a little easier. "Marigold," he meowed, pointing to the herb with a paw. "The leaves dress wounds, and the petals can be used to prevent infections when applied to wounds."

"Good, good. Go on." "Dock leaves. They help soothe cracked pads..." He trailed off as he tried hard to remember another use for them that he'd learned. "...they...are good for helping stuck cats. They're slippery, so it can help them get out." Blackberry nodded once more, and there was a smile on her muzzle. "Comfrey...helps with broken bones. Goldenrod for joints, and can also be used for wounds...juice from it numbs wounds. Cobwebs stop bleeding. Burdock...leaves help speed healing, root is used for rat bites. Coltsfoot helps with shortness of breath. Feverfew helps with fevers and stomachaches. Juniper berries help with stomachaches. Tansy helps with coughing. Borage..." Palepaw stopped here, thinking. "Borage helps with fevers, and if a queen eats them they'll have more milk. The leaves and...roots, are used for the fever part, and the seeds for milk."

Blackberry was purring when he finished. "Good job! There's more you have to learn, of course, but you're off to a very good start." He relaxed, though he shuffled his paws a little. "Thank you..." he mumbled. "Should we...put these back?" The medicine cat hummed an affirmative, standing up and picking up some of the herbs carefully. Palepaw followed her lead, and together they got the back of the den in order once more.

The apprentice's mind wandered as they worked. Though Blackberry pushed him hard, with several surprise tests to see the extent of his knowledge and to keep it sharp, he wasn't at all dissatisfied. He would gladly subject himself to it without complaint in any other life. Clan living was good, and a lot of his clanmates agreed that he life they lived here was better than city life. He supposed that was why his parents had pushed so hard to get him here, and paid the price in lifeblood. He was grateful for that, even though he didn't remember them.

Only a little time had passed when the two medicine cats were done, and the sun was hot and high in the sky as they exited the den. Blackberry flicked her tail in thought. "Hm...we're running low on borage, I think. Redblaze's kits might not be coming now, but they will be soon, and it's better safe than sorry." That was his mentor's favorite catchphrase, that and "look before you leap." She was a cautious cat, and many outside of her clan respected her for it, and were half-willing to overlook her CliffClan blood.

Palepaw nodded. Blackberry continued to think out loud. "The clan can spare us for a little while. We can take a warrior or two with us, just to be safe...where does borage grow, Palepaw?" Another test; he was ready for it. "On the border of MistClan and CliffClan territory," he replied immediately. Her whiskers twitched. "Good, good. Any preference on who we should choose as our escorts?" The apprentice thought hard for a moment as he went through a mental list of the warriors in the clan. "Um...no, not really," he replied. He didn't have any favorites; they were all equally nice, and nobody hated him. Perhaps that was due to the camaraderie the cats in CliffClan shared...it was akin to being in a tight knit community. Being from similar backgrounds helped.

Being hated by most of the cats from the other clans helped, too.

Blackberry padded over towards two warriors chatting closer to the fresh-kill pile, Palepaw following her almost like a lost kit. "Birchpelt, Birchfur," she greeted them warmly. The two brothers looked at her, halting their conversation. "We—" She gestured to her apprentice with her tail. "—need to go collect more borage for our stores. Would you like to escort us?" Birchpelt glanced at his brother, amber eyes meeting yellow ones, then looked back at the two medicine cats. "Sure!" they meowed brightly, simultaneously. Palepaw blinked; it always tripped him up when they started speaking together like that. "Thank you," he meowed hastily, in an attempt not to seem ungrateful. Birchfur dipped his head at him. "No need for thanks," he replied warmly. "We're happy to help."

Not long after that, they were underway. The walk was pleasant with the sun on their pelts, and they soon fell into a comfortable dynamic. Blackberry talked about the goings-on of clan health to the two, who would reply with palpable interest. Palepaw stayed quiet for it, but he was just as content. Day to day life here might've been mundane for any other cat, but he was happy with it. He wasn't the type to yearn for drastic events; walking to and from the borders was good enough for him.

"Redblaze is going to have her kits very soon," Blackberry was saying now. "I'm thinking it may be a few weeks, if not sooner." "Can you guess how many there are?" Birchfur asked, curious. "If I had to take a wild guess, I'd hope...three." Birchpelt's amber gaze was pleasantly surprised. "Three! That's great! Do you think we'll be able to mentor some?" "Maybe," she mewed, stepping carefully on the rocky ground that comprised most of their territory.

"It's good that we finally have some kits being born in the clan," Birchfur commented lightly. "It's been a while since we've had any clan-born apprentices...not that that _matters_ , though." He shot a glance at Palepaw, who blinked, but kept his silence. "All our cats are just as good as any pure blooded clan cat, eh?"

"Yes. You two weren't born here, but you're some of the best warriors the clan has seen in ages." Blackberry's comment made the brothers shuffle their paws in slight embarrassment. "Aw, that's sweet of you..." Birchpelt meowed for them both.

They were by the border, now. Blackberry, in another subtle test of knowledge, gestured with her tail for Palepaw to go ahead of them. They followed him as he nosed around the underbrush, honing in on the faint scent of borage. It wasn't long before he found some, right on the edge of their side of the border. Blackberry broke off her idle chat with the two warriors as she padded over to help him carry some back.

Birchfur and Birchpelt were talking as they did so. "You think that we should mark the border again, since we're here?" Birchfur was saying as they stood close. His amber eyed counterpart frowned. "No...no, it's still fresh...and we're here to guard medicine cats, not check the border." "That's true. I just was thinking, we'd be better safe than—"

A yowl cut him off, and they whipped around to face the border. Blackberry leaped backwards with her portion of borage clutched in her jaws, and Palepaw more or less stumbled away from his own clump as a questing paw sought his face, claws unsheathed.

It missed, but he was rattled, and his heart beat wildly in his chest as the scent of MistClan filled his nose.

"Graypaw!" Another vicious sounding cry carried across to the band of CliffClan cats, but the speaker's ire wasn't directed at them, and the cat that attacked the medicine cat apprentice hissed wildly, but made no more moves. Palepaw didn't question his fortune; he was off like a shot after regaining his footing, and only looked back after he was a good distance away.

The MistClan apprentice—Graypaw—lashed his tail, ears flat and fur bushed up as he glared at them with hatred. Four other cats picked their way across to stand beside him, three warriors and another apprentice.

The cat Palepaw assumed to be Graypaw's mentor stood forward and berated him. "What were you thinking?" he spat, towering over Graypaw. "These cats are not doing anything that would warrant an attack!" Graypaw wasn't intimidated, and stared the light brown tom full in the face. "They were too close to our territory—" "On _their_ side of the border!?" "They're CliffClan cats. They were probably looking for the perfect time to cross, to steal kits or something!"

Palepaw flinched in unison with the rest of his clanmates. Blackberry's fur stood up along her spine. "We do not steal kits." Her voice was venom. "We would never stoop so low."

Graypaw looked at her defiantly. "Your clan is small," he challenged. "You probably need the bodies. And it's not like you have any doubts taking random cats in from the—" " _Enough_ , Graypaw!" his mentor hissed again, moving as if he were going to cuff him around the ears. Another cat stepped in, a she-cat who's blue eyes glowed with half pride, half hostility. "Do not touch my son, Quickfoot. He's only doing what he thinks is best for the clan." Her own fur was beginning to rise.

Quickfoot snorted at her. "The only thing he's doing is making everything worse. He's my apprentice. Stay out of this, Nettlepad."

Nettlepad's eyes blazed at him. Before she could throw a retort at him, the silent apprentice cut in. "These cats were on their side of the border," she meowed, voice smooth and cold as ice, devoid of feeling. "They were not infringing on our territory. And, they are picking herbs. These are medicine cats." She trained a narrow eyed glare on both Nettlepad and Graypaw, who looked away. "Mothstar would not be pleased to hear that you tried to draw the blood of those who share tongues with StarClan, rogue history or not."

The dark tom sitting next to the white she-cat nodded approvingly. "Frostpaw speaks sense. Everyone would do well to listen."

Birchfur spoke up for the first time. "She does. We were just here to escort our medicine cats to collect borage. We meant no offense." His brother's ears were flat as he continued on. "We'll just take the last clump we picked, and be on our—hey!"

The warrior almost lunged forward as the impudent MistClan apprentice reached over the border and snagged the herbs with a claw, dragging it over to his side of the border. "Thanks for that!" he meowed viciously. "Our medicine cat sends his appreciation."

Palepaw crouched down, shivering with anger. Those were _his_ herbs. He'd picked them out. They were for his clan, not some thief's stuck up family of fox-dung—

Blackberry laid her tail gently across his shoulders before whisking it away. "It's not worth it," she murmured. "There are other places along the border we can find more."

She repeated this quietly to the two warriors, who looked like they wanted to leap across the border and fight them all.

The medicine cat's tone was flat, with a hint of controlled anger. "Very well. We will make sure that every medicine cat knows how nice you were to take our herbs back to your own clan." Graypaw flinched, but held his ground. The other MistClan cats were silent; despite their strife, it looked like they were united in this. Blackberry shook her head, and gestured for Palepaw to pick up the herbs she'd placed on the ground to talk. They performed an about face and walked back the way they had came, the eyes of the MistClanners boring into them from the marshy border with every step, until they were out of sight.

The walk back was a long and despondent one, and the cheerful sun only seemed to be mocking them.

"Ridiculous. Ridiculous. That was..." At a loss for words, Birchpelt lashed his tail and hissed loud and long. "There was nothing we could do," Blackberry told him, voice heavy with resignation. "There were only two of you, and five of them."

Birchfur let out a mirthless chuckle. "You looked like a warrior yourself, Blackberry. I could've sworn you were about to claw that apprentice's face off." She let out a quiet purr. "I wanted to, certainly."

They were silent after that, and they parted when they reached the camp. "Still, thank you for escorting us." The brothers nodded politely, and headed off. Palepaw and Blackberry went to the medicine cat den, and put what they had gotten in its proper place. "...we'll get more some other time, Palepaw." His mentor sighed. "I'm going to talk to Snakestar about this. Go eat something, okay?" Palepaw nodded mutely, and Blackberry left him alone.

He eventually meandered over to the fresh-kill pile, pawing through it until he found a decent sized mouse. He settled down in a patch of sun and began to eat, though he didn't feel all that hungry.

A familiar scent reached him, and a second later, another cat sat down close to him. "Hey." "Hi, Russetpaw," he mumbled between bites. "I just came from giving Troutfang some fresh-kill, and let me tell you. That cat..." She shook her head. "With how fiercely he talks about past battles he's been in, you'd think he'd want to get right back up and be patrolling with the best of them." Palepaw let out a weak chuckle, but said nothing. "Redblaze is sleeping...I hope I'll be a warrior by the time her kits are old enough to be apprenticed. I'd be the best deputy. Imagine that. Russetstar the great..." Palepaw was still silent, though he indulged her with a soft smile.

His silence seemed to perturb the other cat. Russetpaw twitched her whiskers before venturing, "You seem a little down. Did something happen?" Palepaw didn't reply for a moment, opting instead to chew on his food silently.

Him, Russetpaw, and Sagepaw, being the only three apprentices in CliffClan, were close. They hadn't all started their training at the same time, and the other two were warrior apprentices, but that didn't stop them from forging a friendship deep and true. Palepaw knew that he could talk to any of them freely.

He swallowed his bit of mouse before meowing, "There was...an incident on the border." He proceeded to tell her all that went on. Russetpaw's expression went from wide-eyed shock at the beginning of his tale to rage at the end. Her tail flicked in restrained anger. "That fox-hearted piece of..." she began at a low growl, before cutting herself off. "...I'm glad I wasn't with you guys," she chuckled after a silence. "I probably would've attacked him, regardless of numbers." "Yeah. Though I bet you could've sent him running with his tail between his legs." She puffed out her chest proudly at that.

Palepaw pushed his mouse over to her. "Want it? I'm not too hungry." "Mm...sure. Thanks." As she finished off the half of the mouse he'd left, he asked quietly, "The other clans are so..." "Rude? Mean? Completely set against us, because we're just 'a group of mangy rogues?'" Palepaw lowered his head. "Yes..."

She licked her lips as she swallowed the last of the mouse. "They're foolish. Blood doesn't determine a clan cat; spirit does. They just don't know how to handle how open we are..." "But..." "No buts. There's nothing wrong with how we live. We follow the warrior code like everybody else."

Her face softened. "Don't let them get to you, okay? We'll have to deal with them whether we like it or not, and cats like that just want to see you upset." She brushed her tail against his side. "Besides, it's not like we have to deal with them all the time."

"That's true," he murmured, thinking. He was still worried, of course; the other clans—except for HollowClan, maybe—seemed to be looking for any excuse to attack them. Maybe, though...maybe things wouldn't hit rock bottom. At least, not while he was alive.

"Thanks," he mewed quietly, and Russetpaw beamed at him.

A call of her name had her jumping to her feet. "Oh, man. What does my amazing mentor want this time..." "You'd better go find out. Maybe it's something simple." Russetpaw shot him a look of mock annoyance. "You don't know what she's like. Your mentor is _nice_." Palepaw purred in real amusement. "Seriously, though. I've gotta run...bye!" And with that, she scampered away.

Palepaw lounged in the sun for minutes longer before hearing his own mentor call for him. Heaving himself to his paws, he padded over to Blackberry's side, and together they walked into the cool darkness of the medicine den.

The moment they were inside, he blurted, "What did Snakestar say?" Blackberry sat down heavily. She seemed...tired. "Nothing." Palepaw stared at her uncomprehendingly. "She said nothing. We can't do anything except tread carefully, and go about our lives."

The apprentice blinked, and she sighed. "We can't risk provoking MistClan over something as small as this. They might take it as an excuse to do something about us, or drag other clans into the mix." He deflated, and nodded. It made sense. Their leader was right to let this pass. It rankled him, but he would rather stay safe.

"For now," Blackberry continued, "we will act as if nothing happened, though we still will not go outside of camp alone. If you need to go somewhere to gather herbs without me, bring a warrior or two, arlight?" "Yes, Blackberry."

There was a comfortable silence between them until Palepaw broke it with a quiet murmur. "It's just not fair."

The medicine cat walked up to him, and put her nose on his head. Her scent was calming. "Nothing in this life is fair, Palepaw. We just have to make the most of it. Perhaps someday this world will be a better one."

And they turned to their duties, and the day wore on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Palepaw: Light cream cat with dark amber eyes  
> Blackberry: Black and gray she-cat with green eyes  
> Birchpelt: Light brown tabby tom with amber eyes  
> Birchfur: Light brown tabby tom with yellow eyes  
> Russetpaw: Dark ginger she-cat with yellow eyes  
> Snakestar: Dark brown tabby she-cat with yellow eyes
> 
> Quickfoot: Light brown tom with green eyes  
> Nettlepad: Light brown she-cat with blue eyes  
> Graypaw: Dark gray tom with amber eyes  
> Shadowheart: Dark gray and black tom with amber eyes  
> Frostpaw: White she-cat with green eyes


End file.
